


Grip

by Kalloway



Series: Metal Saga [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 14:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalloway/pseuds/Kalloway
Summary: Squall finds him self very familiar with one of Esthar's cyborgs.





	Grip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laceyleopard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laceyleopard/gifts).

> A request for not!crossover Cloud/Squall. First of the 'Metal' Saga~
> 
> December 14, 2004. For laceyleopard.

Nnn. Warm. 

Squall didn’t really like the feeling of being warm because it always ended and then he missed it. Especially the sort of comforting warmth that now encompassed him. There was no light in the room and it had to still be dark outside. It felt early, but Squall really couldn’t tell anything else. And he didn’t seem to be able to move enough to take a look at the clock nearby.

There was an arm thrown over his body, the source of the heat and the comfort, Squall noted. Suddenly remembering everything, Squall thought himself instantly idiotic for even having a moment where he didn’t remember the evening before.

Now that he was paying attention to the little details, he could feel the bits of permanent metal armor on his partner’s fingers, no warmer or colder than the rest of him but not anywhere near as soft.

Squall had brought the Estharian soldier home several times before, unwilling to admit how much their power games aroused him. But the blond soldier, an enhanced demi-cyborg like many of his comrades, had a different sort of grip on him that he couldn’t begin to place.

They’d had a rough night, genetic and metallic modification versus the power of the sleeping gods within Squall’s brain. Neither had won.

Instead they had ended up locked in hot kisses, tasting one another and pressing their bodies together, impatient and needy. Squall had let himself be pinned against his head, those half-metal arms re-wired for war holding his own hands high above his head, taking away his control. And then it was just kisses, deep and long, adding to the waves of pleasure coming from lower down. Squall had shuddered each time their erections had brushed together, gliding smoothly between the contours of their sweat and pre-come-slicked stomach.

Orgasm had been bliss, his partner’s seed hitting his erection in hot bursts to make him respond instantly, emptying himself into a combined pool.

And now, finally getting free enough to see the clock, it was time to get up and spend the day bull-shitting around with Laguna’s advisors and officials, probably not lucky enough to gain an audience with the silver-haired army General who could easily determine his young blond’s fate.


End file.
